


EDM ship drabbles

by orphan_account



Category: Electronic Dance Music RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 21:31:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11090328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I'll be posting some of my ship fics/drabbles from my tumblr on here! It's mostly portgo but i'll add other ships if they come up.





	1. Flowers in the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a tiny thing I wrote based off an idea from a friend which was along the lines of "Porter playing with flowers while leaning on Hugo's chest and Hugo being in absolute love with him".

It’s only 11 in morning but Hugo already wants to be back in bed sleeping for just five more minutes. But Porter was in his room waking him up at 7:30 so they could go out and do things, “like normal people do”. As if they aren’t normal people, Hugo sighs to himself.

“I was thinking we could get lunch at that one place with the really good pasta dish we always go to. Then we could go to that old arcade we went to a few months ago.”

Hugo tuned Porter out after the first few words came out of his mouth.

“Can’t we just take a nap, cher?”

Porter stops walking and looks at him, mouth hanging open like he’s offended. “I mean I guess we could. I just wanted to spend the day with you.”

Hugo sighs, squeezing Porter’s hand, “I want to spend the day with you too but I’m tired. Can we do something simple?”

“Of course. We can go back to your house and find something to do.”

The walk back to Hugo’s house is long, and Hugo’s sure he’s going to pass out in a dead sleep half way through but Porter is holding his hand and talking about all the things he loves, and it makes it bearable.

Once the house is in view, Porter’s grip on Hugo’s hand tightens and once they get closer to the front door Porter pulls him to the side, opening the gate to the backyard and pulling them through.

“Let’s sit outside at least. You can sleep later.” Porter says, dropping himself to the ground.

Hugo groans, but he drops to the ground too. Porter crawls off towards the garden, and he takes the space he’s given to lie down on his back, propping his head up with his arms to keep the sun from shining directly into his eyes.

By the time he’s comfortable Porter is back next to him, with a handful of flowers and a smile on his face. Porter rests the top half of his body on Hugo’s, looking at him as he mindlessly plucks the flower petals.

“Are you having fun ruining my mom’s flowers?” Hugo asks after a few minutes, a lightness in his voice to show he doesn’t actually mind.

Porter hums in response, flicking a flower petal down onto Hugo’s face. He ignores it, leaning his head back to rest in the sun.

“Hey sleepy head, if you fall asleep out here I’m not bringing you inside. I’ll let you get sunburnt.” Porter says.

“Oh? Then you should carry me inside.”

Porter laughs, dropping his head down onto Hugo’s chest, staring at his face sideways and smiling. “I don’t think that’s ever going to happen.”

“Shame. I guess we have to stay out here then.”

“Was this your plan all along, have I been deceived by my own boyfriend?” Porter asks, fake shock lacing his words.

Hugo wraps his arms around Porter’s back, pulling him closer to his side. “Maybe.”


	2. Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was based off a prompt I saw that said "fuck, i'm in love with you."

                Porter opens the clock app on his phone, checking the time in France. There’s a little voice in the back of his head screaming at him to delete the message he typed out on Skype. His heart is telling him to send it, but he’s not sure he wants to.

                How do you tell someone you love them when you don’t even live close enough to each other to make it work? How do you tell a friend you love them but not platonically?

                He presses the backspace button on his keyboard and deletes the cheesy words he’s too chicken to send. He settles for ‘hey it’s been a while since we talked hope you’re doing well :)’ message instead.

                It’s not even completely true, they talked for hours last week about absolutely nothing. It was the most exciting part of Porter’s week and he still can hear Hugo’s voice ringing in his ears about how much he loves the way the sky sets over the water in Nantes. Even louder he can hear Hugo, with a grin on his face, say “I want you to see it too! Once you visit me I have to take you to river! It’s so beautiful, Port.”

                Porter has Hugo’s voice in his memory so clearly he can almost pretend Hugo said, “you’re so beautiful, Port,” and he smiles as he thinks about the way Hugo would say that with a shy smile on his face and rosy cheeks. Sometimes he feels like he shouldn’t do that, like it’s breaking some sort of unspoken friendship and privacy law but part of him doesn’t care. Sometimes, when he’s too overwhelmed with anxiety he’ll think of Hugo saying that to him and suddenly the air comes back into his lungs a little easier.

                ‘Hugo is typing’ pops up on the Skype chat and Porter’s heart instinctively starts to beat faster. He leaves his desk and goes to grab a bottle of water from his kitchen to calm down. Once he’s back there’s a new message notification and he opens it, knowing it’s from Hugo.

                “i’m gooooood. bored as hell lol wanna video chat for a while ?” His heart rate skyrockets again, but he quickly replies with a ‘yea sounds good!’

                It takes a few moments for the call to go through but eventually they’re looking at each other through pixels and Porter is so happy.

                “Hi!” Hugo says, giving a little wave. It’s laggy as hell but Porter doesn’t care.

                “What’s up?”

                “Nothing, I started making a new song today but I don’t think it sounds good yet. You?”

                “Just school and video games.” Hugo laughs at that.

                There’s a long bought of silence between them, and besides the little sporadic crackles of noise it’s completely silent. Porter looks down and stares at Hugo’s visage on his computer screen. He can feel a million different emotions trying to take over. He’s getting overwhelmed and he doesn’t realize he’s crying until Hugo asks him what’s wrong.

                He doesn’t answer right away; the logical part of his mind is still telling him not to. He just lets a few sobs escape his mouth as he keeps his head down but eyes locked on the man displayed on his screen. It’s the only thing keeping his mind from straying too far, but also the reason he’s like this in the first place. Hugo’s become his double-edged sword.

                “Port…? Please tell me what’s wrong.” Hugo’s voice is so soft and gentle and it’s the only thing Porter wants to hear for the rest of his life.

                “Fuck, dude. I… I think I love you?” He chokes it out, and this time he takes his eyes off the screen and lets his tears fall onto the keyboard.

                “Oh.” Is the only thing Hugo says for a moment, and Porter is sure he fucked this up entirely. “I kinda figured.”

                That takes him by surprise, he thought he hid it well. He never mentioned anything about love or crushes or relationships to Hugo, so for him to have just assumed it was true is like a small weight lifted off his shoulders but also a punch to the gut.

                “How’d you know? And why wouldn’t you say anything?” His voice is rough and cracking.

                “Well, first off most friends don’t blush whenever you say stuff about spending time with each other. I just didn’t mention it cos you seemed like you didn’t wanna tell me.”

                “Fair point.”

                Porter wipes the tears away from his eyes and off his cheeks, and looks back up at the computer.

                “I feel the same way, you know.” Hugo mumbles into his microphone. “Just feels weird to say that when you’re so far away.”

                “Yeah.” Porter understands that, it was one of the reasons he didn’t want to say anything in the first place. They’re also still just teenagers, neither of them really know what’s going to happen in the future.

                “Maybe someday if we still feel the same we can try it out.” He suggests. He’s hoping Hugo agrees but he’ll get over it if he says no.

                “Of course! Once we get our lives figured out.” Hugo replies.

~

                It’s late, almost 3:30 in the morning but Porter can’t sleep. The adrenaline of playing a show has worn down and he can start feeling the little aches and pains in his feet and back. It’s a good reminder for him to take a long hot shower in the morning.

                He looks down at the body pressed against his, and he brushes a few pieces of hair back. At least Hugo’s asleep, normally he’s awake later than Porter is. His lips are opened partially and he’s snoring and he looks so peaceful. Porter lives for moments like this when neither of them are trying to look nice.

                Porter leans his head down and places a few soft kisses on Hugo’s forehead, before wrapping his arm around the other’s body and closing his eyes to try and get some sleep.

                “I love you.” He whispers, “I’m glad we took this chance.”


	3. Adoption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of a few incredibly short things I wrote for a friend one night when we were both down.

“I think Talia is a cute baby name.” Hugo says nonchalantly, as if he didn’t just bring the subject up out of nowhere.

Porter almost chokes on his water, some of it spilling out of his mouth and falling down his chin.

“ _What?”_

Hugo shrugs, pulling his book back up to face. “I’m just saying I think it’s a cute name.”

Porter pushes the book down away from his face, forcing Hugo to look at him. “That isn’t something people normally say without a reason.”

“I didn’t know I needed a reason to find a name enjoyable.”

Porter glares at him for dancing around the subject, causing Hugo to shrink into the bed in response.

“I just mean I’d like to have kids, at least one, sometime. Maybe we could look into adoption?” His voice is so small not even he can believe it’s his.

He’d like to have brought up such a serious subject in a better way, but he couldn’t think of any way to do it. So, subtlety was his only plan, though it’s not like he was very subtle about it either.

“I think we could look into it, yeah.” Porter smiles at him, leaning over and pressing a small kiss to Hugo’s nose. “But if we adopt a baby we are not naming it Talia.”


	4. House Hunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another part of incredibly small things I wrote for a friend one night.

The house is everything both of them have ever dreamed of. It’s got four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a nice backyard, it’s in a quiet neighborhood, easily soundproofed, it’s perfect.

“And on the left is the living room. It opens to the dining room through these doors here. That’s the last part of the house.”

“This is perfect.” Hugo muses, looking around once again at the structure.

Porter wanders into the living room, looking out the window.

“The price is only €90,000!” The real estate agent says.

Porter’s heart sinks, hearing her talk as if that’s cheap. He knows they can barely afford €60,000 for a house, and even that’s pushing the limits of their savings account.

He doesn’t even realize he let out a sigh until Hugo is next to him, squeezing his hand and kissing his forehead. His small, but appreciated, way of saying “it’ll be okay, love”.

“I’ll talk to her, see what I can do.” Hugo whispers, before asking to be shown the kitchen again and leaving Porter’s side.

Porter stands in front of the window for another few seconds before moving to sit next to the couch, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens the notes app.

The words have been flowing around in his mind all morning while going on house tours but being in this house and walking around with the love of his life made all the words connect and fit in his mind.

He gently taps away at the keyboard, putting the song together, while a rhythm and melody play in his head.

Hugo walks back into the room after about 20 minutes, and the look on his face makes Porter’s heart beat fast.

“What’d she say?” He whispers, half afraid of the answer he’ll get.

Hugo reaches down to pull Porter up and grabs him in a big hug, whispering the answer in his ear. Porter nearly pushes Hugo down by jumping on him, and placing kisses all over face.

“This is going to be ours!?”

Hugo smiles, “all ours! It’s a little over our price range but I’ll do some shows to make money.”

Porter buries his face in Hugo’s neck. He’s crying, but he doesn’t fully care. He knows exactly when he’s going to play Hugo his song, and it’s going to be the moment they step into their new house.


	5. Infantile Colic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last part of small things I wrote for a friend, and also part of an au I'm soon going to be elaborating on! Just a note: I don't know any French so if this is wrong, I'm sorry.

Aurora’s been crying for hours and Porter is exasperated. He tries to feed her again, desperately hoping a bottle will calm her down but she refuses to keep it in her mouth.

He puts the bottle back on the nightstand and tries to rock her as he walks around the corridor of the nursery.

“What’s wrong, princess? I’m here, you don’t have to cry.” Porter tries to soothe her, but she doesn’t stop.

He’s going through a list of things he’s done, wondering if retrying any of them will help. Then it hits him. It takes him a moment to remember how Hugo sings it, but it comes to him.

“Dodo, l'enfant do,” he starts, pausing to move Aurora to his other arm to rock her in. L'enfant dormira bien vite. Dodo, l'enfant do, l'enfant dormira bientôt.”

Aurora stops crying, and Porter can feel his heart beat normally again.

“Une poule blanche est là dans la grange.” Hugo sings, and Porter almost jumps out of skin.

Hugo chuckles, walking fully into the room. He leans down and kisses Aurora on the head, before leaning over and kissing Porter too.

“How long were you standing there?” Porter asks, a look of annoyance on his face.

“Hm. A few minutes?”

“And you didn’t once think to help me?”

“It was a cute scene, cher, I wanted to enjoy it for a moment. But you stopped the lullaby, I had to come in and sing her favorite part! And your accent is horrible, I can’t have my child growing up hearing such bad French accents, it’d be a shame.”

Porter playfully slaps Hugo’s arm as he hands Aurora over to him.

“Fine, then you can get her to sleep while _I_ watch.”


	6. Sick Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this for a friend who was sick so I wanted to cheer them up with other sick beings.

                Touring is always hard for Hugo. Not because he doesn’t love the music or playing for his fans, but because he inevitably gets sick at least once. Playing in dirty clubs always get him.

                This instance of sickness is particularly bad, he can barely breath due to how congested he is. He felt it coming on almost as quickly as he left last night’s venue and stepped outside into the night. Then he slept and it got all worse.

                Porter pops his head behind the curtain to Hugo’s bunk, giving him a sleepy smile. “Heya.”

                Hugo nods his head in response, knowing if he answers he’ll probably start coughing. He doesn’t want to alarm Porter.

                “Jesus, dude. You look awful.”

                “Thanks.” Hugo whispers back, voice cracking like he’s a teenager again.

                Porter pulls himself into his’s bunk, pressing his hand against Hugo’s forehead and cheeks. “It feels like you’ve got a fever.”

                “Thanks, mom.”

                “That’s not funny. You look really sick. Let me see if we’ve got any medicine here.”

                Porter jumps down out of his bunk, and walks down towards the bathroom. He opens the small medicine cabinet hanging on the wall and eyes every container he can see. He can hear Hugo coughing all the way in here, he scans faster. He settles on a bag of cough drops and some Dayquil.

                He climbs back up into the bunk with the items in each other before dropping them in Hugo’s lap. “Take these.”

                Hugo eyes them up carefully, he graciously opens the bag of cough drops and pops one in his mouth. The sweet citrus flavor coating his tongue is a nice relief. “I’m not taking this,” Hugo points to the bottle of Dayquil in his lap. “This stuff tastes like shit.”

                Porter groans, mentally going over every container he saw in the cabinet. “This is the only cold medicine we have, please just take it. You’ll feel better.”

                He shakes his head in response.

                “Please, Hugo, for me?” Porter tries his best at puppy dog eyeing him. They both stare at each other like that for a few seconds before Hugo breaks out in a smile and Porter starts giggling at him.

                He opens the bottle and takes a small drink of it, wincing as the taste hits his mouth. Porter kisses him on the cheek, whispering a ‘thank you’ to him.

                Hugo pulls Porter into a cuddle in his small bunk, wrapping his cold limbs around Porter’s warm body.

                “You’re cute when you’re sick and all, but if you get me sick I’m going to be mad at you.” Porter mumbles into his chest.

                Hugo just laughs and throws a blanket on top of them, snuggling closer to Porter.


End file.
